


I Won't Let You Take This, Too

by its_just_us_here



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_just_us_here/pseuds/its_just_us_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in season 8. Spencer comforts Derek after he has to confront Buford in jail. Archive warnings are for mentions of Derek's past abuse. Just an excuse to write some cute fluff about Spencer being a good boyfriend? Gets smutty halfway through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Let You Take This, Too

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh idk this is my first fan fic & i didn't do a ton of editing, be nice, sorry byeeeeee

It was late, almost midnight, when Derek finally got back to his apartment. It had been at least a week since he’d been there. The team spent several days in Chicago, chasing down a serial killer who was a victim of the same man who had molested Derek. Too much had been asked of Derek that week: Sharing his most personal secret with his entire team, confronting men whose lives were falling apart because of the very same memories that haunted him, facing his childhood abuser. He was on edge, shaky. And longing for comfort.

He turned on a lamp and took a minute to look around his apartment. Suddenly everything in his life had taken on a new light, like he was seeing it with new eyes. Carl Buford was dead, murdered in prison after his real crimes were announced. Derek couldn’t stop replaying the phone call in his head, couldn’t stop reliving the sense of relief, of weightlessness, upon hearing the news. It was a vicious cycle, though; the news coming just a few days after Derek had sat across from his molester in the Cook County jail. _I always liked that mouth of yours_ , Buford had snarled at him. The memories were fighting for dominance in his brain. _Do you still like mint chocolate chip ice cream?_ followed urgently by _He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead._

Derek was still standing in his entryway surveying his living room when he heard a tentative knock on the door. He turned around and with a quick glance through the peephole, he saw Spencer Reid on the other side and opened the door slowly.

“Hey,” Spencer said lamely.

“Hey yourself,” Derek replied, stepping aside to let Spencer into the apartment.

Derek had been avoiding him in Chicago, and Spencer knew it, and Derek knew that Spencer knew it. Reid walked into the apartment quietly, a tension hanging between them.

As Derek had relived the worst moments of his life in front of his team over the past week, the only person he wanted to comfort him was Spencer, but he couldn’t bring himself to be alone with the other agent. This thing between them – whatever it was – was new, and fragile. It had started out in a dark place, Derek helping Spencer through the grief of losing Maeve, but from there it had somehow grown into something light; joyful and easy.

“How’d you know I was back?” Derek asked. After the plane had touched down at Quantico, he had spent all day and most of the night at a house he was restoring out in Reston, Virginia.

“I, uh… Already tried knocking a few times tonight,” Spencer admitted, looking a little embarrassed.

Derek had no doubts about his feelings for his coworker; he was completely, totally consumed by love. But he had a lot of doubts about Spencer’s intentions. Not that Spencer would ever purposefully take advantage of Derek’s feelings, but Derek worried that their new relationship was a rebound of sorts, or a way for Spencer to put his grief on hold for a while. The last thing Derek wanted was for Spencer to feel that his new boyfriend – was that what he was? – came with too much emotional trauma, that he would be expected to help carry the burden of what happened Carl Buford’s cabin.

Finally Spencer turned to him. “You were avoiding me in Chicago.” It wasn’t an accusation; Spencer’s face was open, concerned. He was merely stating the facts.

“Spencer, you don’t have to do this,” Derek said earnestly, looking at the floor to shield his face. His eyes were wet, something he hadn’t expected, but he had been holding in so much emotion that he guessed he couldn’t be too surprised. Spencer was the person he wanted there when he finally broke down, but he didn’t know how to ask for it, and was terrified that Spencer wouldn’t want to see it.

Spencer took a few steps forward, wanting to be close to Derek, but leaving a foot of space between them. His hands were stuffed firmly in his pockets, a message they both understood. _I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. You can trust me with that_.

Derek closed the space. His arms stayed at his side as he gently rested his forehead on Spencer’s shoulder. For a few moments, the agents stood still, breathing together. Spencer didn’t want to rush Derek, and Derek wondered how his friend could know exactly what he needed in that moment.

Eventually Spencer broke the silence, his voice strained. He was overwhelmed by his compassion for Derek, sharing his pain. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but there’s nothing you could tell me that I wouldn’t want to hear, Derek.”

In response, Derek exhaled slowly, shakily. “I just don’t want this hanging over us, Kid. I don’t want those images in your head; you know they’ll be stuck up there forever,” he said with a dry chuckle, referencing Spencer’s eidetic memory. “I just… what he did to me…”

“What did he do to you?” Spencer asked shyly, almost so quiet that Derek couldn’t hear. He suspected that Derek had never told anyone – not really – always glossing over the explicit details.

Derek reached for Spencer’s hands, digging them out of pockets, and at the same time turned around so that Spencer was left holding him from behind, his slender arms wrapped around Derek’s waist, Derek’s own hands gingerly placed on his forearms. Derek couldn’t do this if he had to watch his lover’s face. Spencer nosed at Derek’s neck, gingerly placing a kiss behind Derek’s ear.

“I was just a kid,” Derek started bitterly.

“I know,” Spencer replied, tightening his hold, pulling Derek closer.

“The first time… He brought me to the cabin for the weekend, just us – a boys’ weekend, he said. I felt so special, almost like I had a dad again. It started out fine. We fished, we went out on the boat, ate dinner. When he pulled out the wine and let me have some, I felt grown up, like a man. I didn’t know yet just how quickly he was going to make me grow up.”

Derek paused to take a few deep breaths while Spencer buried his face in Derek’s shoulder.

The pause stretched on and Spencer could feel Derek shaking, fighting to keep himself together. “Fuck. Spencer. I’m not ready to do this.”

Derek turned around in Spencer’s arms and they were looking at each other in the face. “Pretty boy, when I’m on top of you in bed, I don’t want you to ever think about how he pinned me down, a 13-year-old kid, and shoved himself inside me while I screamed and begged for it to stop,” he continued, anger and bitterness radiating off his body.

Spencer’s brows furrowed, taking in the weight of what his partner had just revealed. “Derek, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when you’re on top of me in bed, I’m not exactly thinking of anyone or anything else… You’ll notice that my usual never-ending recitation of statistics slows down considerably when you’re touching me,” he said playfully into the other’s ear, hoping to lighten the mood just the right amount. “But besides that, I don’t draw any connection between what happened with you and Buford and what happens between us. There are no parallels. You were a kid being forced to do something you didn’t want and didn’t understand. What we have is so different, and so much more than that.”

Derek had never been much of a talker, had never let anyone in as far as he had let Spencer in during the last ten minutes. He was trying to stifle his internal panic that this was scaring Spencer away, but Spencer’s steady breath against his neck was a welcome reassurance. “Hey,” he let out roughly. “Kid, I just, uh… Give me a few minutes, okay?” He took a step backwards, outstretched arms still resting on Spencer’s ribs, his face scared and questioning looking up into Spencer’s.

“Of course,” came Spencer’s reply. Derek leaned in for a quick kiss to the other man’s lips: short and sweet, probably the gentlest and most sincere kiss Derek had received in his lifetime.

Derek turned away and headed towards the bathroom, closing the door. Spencer stayed glued to the spot for a minute before he heard the shower start and he turned to rummage through his bag for a book.

Spencer moved to the bedroom. He stripped off a few of the seemingly endless layers he was wearing, discarding a coat and a cardigan and a tie and a button-down and settled into Derek’s bed in his cords and a white undershirt. He laid on his back and opened the book but couldn’t concentrate on the words, a rare occasion for him. Laying it on his chest, he stared up at the ceiling, so lost in thought that he startled at the sound on the bathroom door opening a few minutes later.

Wearing just a pair of boxer briefs, Derek came into the room still toweling off his arms. “Whatchu reading, Boy Genius?”

Spencer grinned slightly at the nickname and wordlessly held up the book for Derek to see the cover. It wasn’t in English.

“Of course,” Derek laughed, stretching out beside him on the bed. He gently took the book out of Spencer’s hands and placed it on the nightstand.

He was propped up on one elbow, looking down into Spencer’s eyes for a moment before leaning in for a kiss. Unlike earlier, this kiss was long and drawn out, and escalating quickly. Derek’s free hand reached out and snaked up Spencer’s shirt, caressing his stomach, as his tongue ran along Spencer’s bottom lip.

Spencer let out the softest, most delicious whimper as he turned slightly to reach out one hand for Derek’s neck and the other for his waist. For awhile they stayed just like that, lazily entwined, moving slowly to explore each other’s mouths. Both men were a little nervous to make the first move after their conversation earlier.

Eventually, Derek pulled away, just a few inches. His eyes were darting over Spencer’s face, searching for any sign of reluctance or repulsion to what he had learned over the past week. Seeing none, Derek sighed contentedly and lowered his head so that their foreheads were touching. With the gentlest push, Spencer was on his back again and Derek maneuvered his hips between Spencer’s thighs. With his forearms planted on either side of Spencer’s head, Derek leaned back down to continue the kiss.

As Derek’s tongue darted in and out of his mouth, Spencer noticed idly that their hips weren’t touching yet, that Derek was hovering almost awkwardly above him, his muscular back straining to keep the contact between their bodies minimal. Spencer let his hands slide down Derek’s chest to his hips and gently tugged them downward; not using enough force to actually move the older man – not wanting to force anything about the evening – but just signaling that it was okay. Derek gave in, closing the gap between their bodies, and as their erections rubbed together for the first time, both men moaned at the friction.

Spencer’s fingertips were low on Derek’s back, sliding just slightly under the waistband of his boxers, urging the older man to keep his hips moving against his own. Derek was breathing heavily and broke the kiss, moving his face instead to Spencer’s neck and letting out a groan. He planted a few kisses but was too overwhelmed to keep sucking and biting. “Ohhh Pretty Boy. Fuck.”

Hearing his favorite nickname, Spencer grew impatient. His thumbs hooked the waistband of Derek’s underwear and whined, “Derek. Off. Take these off.”

Derek laughed into his neck, the rush of moist, warm air driving Spencer crazy. “What about you? Still got a lotta layers on, Doc.”

With one last, rough grind of his hips, Derek sat up onto bent knees and dragged a hand down Spencer’s chest, down his stomach, resting at the hem of his shirt. “Sit up for me, Kid.” Spencer immediately complied and lifted his arms over his head so Derek could free him of his shirt. They snuck a quick kiss before Spencer let himself fall back with a soft thud. Derek couldn’t help but lick his lips and he stared down and admired how beautiful Spencer was: soft white skin, a thin but just-slightly-muscular frame, hot messy hair, and the most perfect lips he had ever seen. His hands traced lightly over Spencer’s lower stomach before finally moving to the button and zipper of his pants. Derek gave two quick pats to the outside of Spencer’s right hip, signaling for him to lift them up for him, which he immediately did.

Locking eyes and giving Spencer the most deliciously dirty stare, Derek slowly dragged his lover’s pants and underwear down until they were completely off his body. Derek stepped backwards off the edge of the bed for a moment to pull them all the way off Spencer’s feet, which distracted him momentarily. One green sock with purple T-rexes; one pink sock with yellow rhinos. Letting out a hearty laugh, Derek shook his head. “Where do you even find these?”

Spencer lifted his head up slightly to admire his own socks and laughed with him. “What? You don’t like them?” he asked playfully, wiggling his toes.

Derek leaned down and planted a kiss on Spencer’s shin. “I love them, baby. Love everything about you.”

Then he stiffened noticeably. He hadn’t meant to say it. It was too soon, and too big. Too much. His lips still pressed to Spencer’s leg, he said hurriedly, “Babe, I…”

“Der,” Spencer cut him off. He sat up and reached a hand down to Derek’s head, signaling to him to look up, which Derek did, bashfully. “Don’t panic. I love you, too. Everything about you.” He smiled down at Derek, whose face was showing visible signs of relief.

Another quick peck to Spencer’s shin and Derek was standing up, wiggling out of his boxers, his cock springing out. Wasting no time, Derek was already climbing back onto the bed, over Spencer’s body, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“Uh… er… Der? My socks?” Spencer lifted his bent knees so that his still-clothed feet were running up the outside of Derek’s legs.

“Leave ‘em on,” Derek said roughly into Spencer’s chest, where he was currently busy planting kisses and sucking on his collarbone. As Derek’s lips moved up Spencer’s body back to his face, so, too did his hips and finally their cocks were rubbing together again, without the fabric keeping them apart.

“Nnnggh. Derek. Please,” Spencer begged. Their lips were touching, not actually kissing, but just grazing each other between ragged breaths.

“Mmmmm Pretty Boy. Tell me what you want,” Derek murmured, but before Spencer could reply Derek was already shifting his weight so he could reach a hand between them, and suddenly both their cocks were enveloped in the heat of Derek’s hand, stroking them quickly and roughly.

“This. God, Derek. I… want this… Want you,” Spencer could barely get his words out, his back arching, trying to thrust his hips upward into Derek’s hand. This went on for a few minutes, Spencer’s hands splayed urgently against Derek’s back, both men moaning and swearing.

“More… I need more, want you… closer. In me,” Spencer let out between breaths.

Derek could only groan in response, and was eager to comply. His hand stopped as he sat up, reaching to the nightstand for lube, Spencer whining at the loss of contact.

“Calm down, calm down,” Derek chided. Spencer smiled sheepishly in response.

Finally, Derek was back over him, a lubed up finger slowly reaching down for his hole. Derek was looking right into Spencer’s eyes, both men reveling in the closeness, the intimacy, neither wanting to look anywhere else. They were gazing directly at each other as Derek shoved a finger inside with no warning, even Spencer’s quick hiss not enough to break them apart.

Derek’s other hand was cradling the side of Spencer’s face. Despite himself, he had the briefest flashback to that horrible cabin; for just a split second, felt his body bent over a dusty table, felt a finger sliding inside him, reliving the confusion and the pain he felt as a young teenager.

His finger stopped moving inside Spencer and he grimaced noticeably, dropping his head to bury his face in the pillow beside Spencer’s ear.

“Hey, babe. You okay?” Spencer turned his head so his lips were grazing Derek’s skin.

His breathing was uneasy for a moment, but he decided with steely resolve that Carl Buford didn’t get to take this away from him: He didn’t get to take away the bright, shining love that he felt for Spencer, the absolute beauty of the trust that they shared, the intimacy of getting to touch each other in the most pleasurable ways.

Derek lifted himself up and kissed Spencer so roughly, so passionately that Spencer was caught off guard, but it took only a second for him to reciprocate. Their tongues tangled around each other fiercely as Derek added a second finger, as Spencer mewed softly against his lips, as Derek felt so much heat and comfort and longing build in his chest. Derek didn’t ever want to move from this exact spot.

He continued working the fingers inside Spencer, scissoring and stretching and relishing the warmth. Finally a third finger slid in and he moaned into Spencer’s mouth when the younger man tried futilely to push his hips backwards against his fingers.

“Mmmm, you like that, don’t you, Pretty Boy?” Derek teased, his lips only daring to move millimeters away from Spencer’s.

“God, I’m ready, Derek. No fingers. Want you,” Spencer’s reply was laced with desire.

Derek, too, was more than ready; his neglected cock had started leaking precome onto Spencer’s stomach. He quickly reached for more lube. Sitting up between Spencer’s legs, Derek hastily stroked himself for a few seconds, leaning his head back and allowing his mouth to fall open as his free hand lazily rubbed Spencer’s left thigh.

No words came to him, but Spencer let out a frustrated moan – simultaneously getting super horny from watching his boyfriend touch himself, but also impatient to be filled up again.

“Fuck, Spence.” Derek lined himself up to Spencer’s hole and leaned over to bring their faces back together. “So fucking hard. Want to be in you so bad.”

Slowly and tenderly, Derek pushed himself forward, letting Spencer adjust. Their breathing was in synch, their eyes locked, as Derek took in the sight of his love taking him in. When he was fully inside Spencer, Derek moaned at the tightness and let his face fall to Spencer’s shoulder, suckling and licking and whining and wishing there were a way for them to be even closer than they already were.

After a minute, Spencer wiggled his hips under Derek, a signal that he was ready for Derek to start moving.

They started out slowly, oh so slowly. Derek pumped his cock inside Spencer in long, sure movements. Everything that had happened in the past months, in the past week, was right there with them in the room. Spencer’s grief and heartbreak, Derek’s trauma. The fact that the only person who could help either of them through their darkest moments was right there, moving alongside the other. Each man was letting out tender whimpers, soft moans. Neither wanted this to ever end, wanted to feel this closeness forever.

Eventually as the pleasure started to build for each of them, Spencer jutted his hips up. “Mmm, Derek. I can’t… Need you to…” He moaned. “Faster… Need to…”

Derek picked up the pace, slamming his hips forward with urgency. They were panting, kissing, groping. Hands searching for bare flesh to grab, teeth scouring each other’s skin.

Spencer’s breathing was starting to hitch, his groans going up in pitch. Derek pulled back slightly to look down at his face and saw his eyes scrunched up. If Derek didn’t know him better, he would’ve thought Spencer was in pain, but Derek knew it just meant he was close, searching for release. Derek reached a hand between them and gripped Spencer’s hardness firmly.

“Pretty Boy…” he breathed between thrusts. Spencer wrapped his legs firmly around Derek’s waist and he could feel those damn socks on his lower back. He couldn’t help but laugh. “God, I love you so much… the way you look right now, so fucking close to blowing your load over my hand…”

“Der… pl.. please… So close…”

“I know, Spence.” He pumped his hand and his hips faster. “Want you to let go, baby. Come for me…”

It was all Spencer needed, and with a loud cry his cock was spurting white liquid over his own chest and Derek’s hand.

“Ohhhh, God, Pretty Boy,” Derek panted. “My favorite sight.” Derek moved his hand to the bed beside Spencer, giving himself leverage to fuck into his hole even faster, racing towards his own release.

“Der, you make me feel so good. Want you to fill me up, come inside me,” Spencer begged.

It didn’t take long. After a few more thrusts, Derek cried out and his pace became uneven, slowing down as he collapsed and rested most of his weight directly on top of Spencer, who was tracing gentle circles over his shoulder blades.

When he finally came down from his orgasm, Derek reluctantly rolled off of his partner, slowly pulling out, and reached for a tissue to clean up. After, he snuggled close to Spencer, laying his head on the other man’s chest and letting Spencer wrap his arms around him. It wasn’t usually how they arranged themselves after sex, the roles usually reversed, Derek normally cradling and comforting Spencer. Derek burrowed his face further into Spencer’s chest, and Spencer pulled him as close as he could, arms almost straining from how tight he wanted to hold him.

Spencer felt just a few wet teardrops hit his chest before Derek’s body started shaking with his sobs. Neither of them said anything about it, just gripped each other harder. Spencer ran a hand up and down Derek’s back, pressed his lips to the top of Derek’s head, murmuring soft “shhhh’s” into his skin. Derek let out all of the emotions he had been barely holding back – all of shame, disgust, anger – but the good ones, too: all of the love he was afraid to admit to.

After awhile Derek’s body stilled. The room was silent except for the occasional sniffle, and just a few minutes later Derek was asleep, safe and secure in Spencer’s arms.

 


End file.
